


Fundamental Theorems

by blue_spruce



Category: The Course of Honour - Avoliot
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 11:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_spruce/pseuds/blue_spruce
Summary: “Did you ever take calculus?” Jainan asked, not an answer, taking his hand back. He stood up and began to strip his clothes off, graceful and efficient.“Um,” Kiem said. The skin of Jainan’s back, the curve of his biceps. The thoughts gone from Kiem's head, nothing left but want. “No.”“Pity,” Jainan said. He sat down on the bed again, and this time laid down, rolling close. His body was warm. “It’s a beautiful thing. The mathematics of change.”“You could teach me,” Kiem said.Jainan smiled again, a quicksilver flash of teeth. “So I could.”





	Fundamental Theorems

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lurknomoar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lurknomoar/gifts).
  * Inspired by [The Course of Honour](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9720611) by [Avoliot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avoliot/pseuds/Avoliot). 



Kiem slid into the back of the room a moment after the lecture hour was set to begin. The lights had already been dimmed and the projection screens were glowing bright. Several students looked over when Kiem dropped into a seat in the back row, rattling the cheap synthboard arm that functioned as an attached desk. A few did double takes. Kiem raised his eyebrows at them and they hurriedly turned back to the front. He had to keep himself from laughing as a couple kept glancing back, nudging each other.

Jainan was already speaking; of course he was, Kiem thought with helpless fondness layered over an undercurrent of pride. No one could ever accuse Jainan of being anything other than punctual. Kiem settled into the uncomfortable desk and watched Jainan zoom in on the display of an asteroid mine at the front of the lecture hall. The map was color-coded and covered with symbols that made absolutely no sense to an untrained eye. The other projection screen was a headache-inducing scrawl of equations.

While Jainan called on a student near the front of the room to answer a question about the friction coefficients of lunar soils, Kiem made a note on his wristband to talk to the College administration. There was no reason why graduate-level students ought to be subjected to these awful chairs.

“Excellent,” Jainan said, and Kiem looked up to see his husband zooming back out of the mine with a fluid flick of his wrist. “Thank you, Zara, you may be seated. Now, who wants to review our equations for determining the effect of the gravitational field?”

Jainan was wearing the robes of a senior lecturer, and Kiem lost the thread of the lecture for several minutes just watching the way Jainan moved in them. They made Jainan look taller, Kiem thought, and maybe even more severe than usual; the effect was intimidating. It was also quite distractingly attractive. Jainan was a magnetic figure who held the attention of his students with what Kiem realized, thanks to months' worth of watching daily lesson preparations take place each evening, was no small amount of skill. Skill and meticulous preparation. Kiem propped his chin on the ball of his hand, resting his weight on the synthboard, and contemplated Jainan’s professional competence for a moment. He found himself smiling.

No one else was smiling: the lecture was proceeding at a rapid clip, and the students in the rows in front of Kiem were frantically taking down notes as Jainan worked through the equations projected at the front of the room. “Any questions?” Jainan asked as Kiem watched. A few hands went up.

Jainan had accepted Professor Audel’s invitation to teach a course on applied mathematics in the interstellar engineering department over the winter and promptly spiraled into a nervous whirlwind of planning. Kiem had worried over it, in truth. But he could see now the way that Jainan’s careful preparation had paid off. He remembered now a conversation they had had several weeks ago; Jainan had explained to him that there was a certain kind of alchemy that occurred in a lecture, “a possibility for anything to happen,” Jainan had said, passion in his voice. “The possibility for learning, Kiem. It’s an amazing thing.”

“Yeah?” Kiem asked, aiming to keep Jainan talking. He was sprawled across the bed, head propped on one hand. Jainan was standing between the bed and the door, looking at some of his notes projected on the wall.

Jainan hummed in agreement, but didn’t say anything. Kiem could see practically see the wheels turning as he examined the equations thrown against the wall. “Did you always like mathematics?” Kiem asked after a few quiet moments had passed.

It took another minute for Jainan to respond, but finally he turned and smiled at Kiem. “Always?” he asked, as he took a step towards the bed, closing the space between them. “Oh, I don’t know.” The mattress gave slightly as Jainan’s weight settled on the edge. “I guess I’d say it grew on me slowly, over time.”

Kiem smiled, and Jainan looked at him, his eyes warm. It felt like time slowed down, and Kiem’s body felt hot down to his toes by the time Jainan leaned in to kiss him. “You know,” Jainan said when he drew away, straightening his back and stretching, “I used to dream about being a teacher. A long time ago.”

“Really?” Kiem asked.

Jainan looked at him again. His face had gone serious and still. He reached out and ran a finger along the line of Kiem’s jaw and Kiem shivered, his thoughts jumping between what Jainan might have been like as a younger man and the one he was now.

“Did you ever take calculus?” Jainan asked, not an answer, taking his hand back. He stood up and began to strip his clothes off, graceful and efficient.

“Um,” Kiem said. The skin of Jainan’s back, the curve of his biceps. The thoughts gone from Kiem's head, nothing left but want. “No.”

“Pity,” Jainan said. He sat down on the bed again, and this time laid down, rolling close. His body was warm. “It’s a beautiful thing. The mathematics of change.”

“You could teach me,” Kiem said.

Jainan smiled again, a quicksilver flash of teeth. “So I could.”

A student coughed and Kiem blinked, back in the present. Jainan was still teaching, and as Kiem watched he called on students, pulling them into the learning that was happening, and answered questions, masterfully in control of his class. They were collectively working on some sort of complex problem that involved  _stabilization variables_ and _t_ _he_ _standard_ _blasting radius_ and other terms that washed over Kiem in a vague and complicated wave, and he gave up on the hope of understanding and just let it unfold, listening with half an ear while he watched his husband pace the front of the classroom. 

The block of time went quickly, and soon Jainan was telling students to stop by his office later if they had questions. The hushed intensity of the lecture broke and students began to gather their belongings, talking and laughing among themselves.

Kiem stayed seated in the back of the room, smiling at students as they filed past him towards the door. He waiting until the class was almost empty before standing and beginning to walk down towards the front. He saw when Jainan noticed him: a surprised blink and then a small smile. “Hi,” Kiem said when he was close enough to be reasonable. He knew some of the students were hanging around the door of the room, watching them. If they were alone he might have pulled Jainan into an embrace.

“Kiem.” Jainan was working to keep whatever he was feeling off his face, Kiem could tell. “You didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“Surprise?”

Jainan huffed out a soft breath, almost a laugh. “Well, come on then,” he said, and picked up the papers he had set on the small lectern beneath the projection screen. “Ask Bel to send us some lunch to my office, would you?”

-

Jainan’s office was sparsely decorated, save for a projection screen currently displaying images of the forest outside the city. Jainan set his papers down on the desk and turned, motioning Kiem to close the door behind him.

“You –” Jainan said when the door closed. He stepped close and took Kiem’s face between his hands.

“What?” Kiem asked.

Jainan kissed him, softly at first and then deeper. “Never mind.”

There was a knock at the door, and Jainan stepped backwards, flustered. Kiem followed him and kissed him once more before he turned to the door. He opened it to see Bel outside with bags hanging from each arm. “Excellent,” Kiem said. He grinned at Jainan over his shoulder. “I have no idea what was going on in your lecture, honestly, but I do know that it's time for lunch."

Jainan snorted.

"That's really all you need," Bel said, pushing her way in past Kiem. "Knowing when to break for lunch is half the key to success every day."

"Well, maybe," Jainan said. He pulled a bag from Bel's hand and peered inside. "Mm, this looks good, thanks." He looked up at Kiem and pinned him with his gaze. "But you, though. Sounds like we need more calculus lessons, I think."

Kiem felt his cheeks redden, thinking of how their last lesson had ended. Bel laughed and dropped the rest of the food on the table. "I'll leave you to it. Kiem, don't forget you have that appointment with the Ambassador at 4 this afternoon."

"Yes, I know," he said, and was relieved when the door shut again behind her. 

"No idea what was going on in my lecture?" Jainan asked, rummaging through the bag in his hand for a spoon. He dropped down into the wide, low chair set against the wall and pulled the container of what smelled like some sort of savory soup out of the bag. "I'm disappointed." 

"Something, something...gravity fields," Kiem said as he looked through the food on the table. "I paid attention for the blast radius bit, that sounded exciting."

"You're impossible," Jainan said, but his voice was fond. 

"That's me," Kiem agreed. He carried his own lunch over and settled into Jainan's lap. "I'm letting you be the mathematician in the family, hope you don't mind." 

Jainan kissed Kiem's shoulder. "Never." 

 


End file.
